What shall avail me

When I reach the border?

This staff will fail me,

This pass all in order.

These words I have learned

Will not help me then,

These honours hard earned,

And applause of men.

My harp truly set

Will break string by string;

I shall quite forget

That once I could sing.

Absence pure and cold

Of sense and memory

Lightly will hold

All that is me.

All, all will fail me,

Tongue, foot and hand.

Strange I shall hale me

To that strange land.